With Bufallo Sauce, Please.

After a month of hard work, the Air King reigns again! And it was some serious work.

The bolts were initially rusted through so separating the fan cage from the motor and blades. When I finally got it off, it was worse than I could have imagined. Oily build up was up to 1/4 of an inch thick in some places!

But, when I finally got it off the blade and motor underneath were actually a lovely tan color. In fact, I didn’t even paint the blades. The color pictured below is what I found after scraping off all the grime.

I started off by taping and bagging stuff up that I didn’t want to get paint on. Luckily the pretty chrome strips on either side of it were removable so I had one less thing to worry about. I used electrical tape on the plastic Air King logo because it had a better grip than painters tape. I also used electrical tape and plastic shopping bags around the blades and areas of the motor I did not want to paint.

As you can probably see, I used spray paint. I ordered the paint on Amazon because I couldn’t find anything like it in stores. I ended up with Rust-Oleum’s Gloss Blue Sky. It was definitely a pain in the ass. I ended up using three cans of paint because of how much area I had to cover and the very thin coats I was forced to use to avoid bubbles.

After that I cleaned out the electrical box inside the fan. I used a can of spray air and pliers to adjust wires that were loose. I ended up just taping a ton of stuff in place and crossing my fingers that it would work, which was certainly nerve wracking after pouring hours of work into the thing.

And it did! It was all surprisingly very simple and straight forward. By golly, the thing diffuses air like it was built yesterday. And while it still weighs a good 40 pounds or more, I couldn’t be more happy to lug it into my window every morning.

Today I’m happy to inform you that while I still can’t tell you how much your James Arthur prints are worth, I can at least tell you a little more about him. I recently requested an interlibrary loan from the Library of Congress on a book about the life of suffragist Clara B. Arthur written by one of her descendants, Juliette C Reineker. I was hoping for some juicy tidbits on the life of a certain mysterious photographer husband of hers, and I wasn’t disappointed.

A little bit of background on Clara first:

Clara was born to a loyalist family who had fled to Canada after the Revolutionary War. They settled in St John, New Brunswick. Clara was feisty, something that is evident even in the story of how she met James:

When she and her older sister Evelyn decided to take dance lessons, her father found out about their plans and forbade them to go. Evelyn obeyed her father, but Clara, determined to have the lessons, said “it’s my money to do with as I want” and went to the classes. It was there that she met James Arthur (Reineker).

Arthur himself was orphaned at an early age. His father was a shipper who was lost at sea in 1866 and his mother died shortly after. Arthur was then raised in an orphanage.

But, James continued to excel even under the circumstances. After meeting Clara, they decided to become citizens of the United States and moved to Detroit. Whether it was luck, skill, or a mixture of both, both Clara and James became prominent business and political figures in early Detroit. Arthur made a large portion of his money selling images for calendars to Brown and Bigelow.

In fact, they were successful enough to have their house fully staffed with a cook, laundress, cleaning woman, and a nursemaid for the children.

Sadly, that all came to an unexpected halt on January 11, 1912. James told Clara that he was not feeling well. He had not been feeling well most of the day. After taking a moment to rest, James suffered a fatal heart attack.

Arthur’s son Kenneth was left to take care of the photography business after his death. Kenneth was young and inexperienced, preferring to drink, have parties, and otherwise continue to rely on the wealth and status of his parents. He lacked the talent or drive to continue the business and it quickly collapsed.

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Now, I’m sure a lot of people are just as curious as I was to see what James looked like or find some scans of his photography. Sadly, this book did little to appease my curiosity. All pictures in the book were terrible photocopies with very little detail, and few pertained to Arthur. But, I’m including them below for those curious. I apologize for the fact that they are pictures of the pages instead of scans, but my camera produced better quality than my local library’s scanner, so I did the best I could with what I had.

A dapper young James Arthur, sporting a moustache we can still envy today.

James and Clara, enjoying a picnic.

Clara and James, no date.

Arthur in middle age.

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Now, as I have exhausted all possible printed material and I have no further leads to pursue on the life of James Arthur, I’m going to take a break from my research to pursue other projects. But, I’m still taking tips! If you have any information, leads, or questions, feel free to email me at info@emilypennington.com

If you or someone you know lives in the Detroit area and is willing to check out their local library for some local history, is a descendant of James Arthur, or can otherwise help, it would be much Also, if you have titles/images of any of Arthur’s work, drop me a line. It’s much appreciated!

A few years ago I was wandering through my local Goodwill on one of my periodic searches for a gilded oval picture frame. It was something I did on a semi-regular basis, based on my sick belief that eventually some old person’s house would be purged of its treasures (and gilded oval mirrors) just in time for me to snatch up and paint irritatingly bold colors under the guise of “repurposing”.

On this particular visit I found nothing of the sort. (Although surprisingly after years of searching, Goodwill DID eventually stock up on an old person treasure trove, which DID include gilded oval mirrors of which I repurposed with a shiny new coat of paint. But, that’s a story for a later date.) The trip that day turned up the usual cache of framed N’sync and motivational posters, the same posters that had in fact been sitting there on my last visit. But, there was one particular new framed picture which drew my eye. There was something a bit off-putting about it. The frame was hanging slightly off. The nails holding it together were splintering the wood just enough to keep me from attempting to pick it up. Inside was a sepia toned black and white picture of a young woman looking down at a baby lying in a cradle in front of her. It’s eyes were clear as glass and trained on the camera. The copyright in the corner revealed it was taken in 1906.

It was a cool picture, sure, but that wasn’t enough to convince me to buy it. The last thing I needed was a picture of some long-dead lady and her probably-dead baby looking down at me from my bedroom wall. That’s when it hit me; The baby’s eyes were so clear, the gaze so penetrating. How had the photographer gotten the baby to stay so complacent and still for what appeared to be a low-light, long exposure picture?

I had been fascinated with memento mori photography ever since becoming familiar with the Burns Archive in my early days of exploring photography. The level of comfort Victorians had with death compelled and at the same time disturbed me. In my study of funeral photography I had come to notice that the price of original memento mori photographs was roughly equivalent to that of my car.

I wasn’t sure what I was really looking at and I didn’t really care. I had dollar signs on my mind and for the low Goodwill price of $5.38, I was willing to take a chance on it, even though I knew the chances of it being a funeral photograph were slim.

Well, after a couple hours of internet searching, I was disappointed with what I found. The photographer, James Arthur, was not a well-known or collected memento mori photographer. As far as google could tell me, he wasn’t a photographer at all. I lost interest in calculating what worth it had, if any at all, once I realized just how far down the rabbit hole I would have to go. I propped it up on my dresser where it continued to sit for the next two years.

But, as time passed I found myself looking at the picture more and more. Unlike most wall art which seems to be specially crafted to fade into the visual white noise of the room it’s placed in, I found myself fascinated with the crispness of the woman’s dress, the unique use of one source lighting from a lit fireplace, and the faint shadowy outlines of what appeared to be the home of a well-to-do Victorian family. I wanted to know who they were and why they were photographed. So, I began searching.

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Searching James Arthur

When using google to search for information on James Arthur, three things become glaringly apparent:

There are a lot of people named James Arthur, none of whom seem particularly photographically inclined.

No one seems quite sure which James Arthur of the many James Arthurs is responsible for the photograph their grandmother gave them.

No one seems quite sure how to go about selling a seemingly important photograph from an artist no one has heard of.

“I have a print of woman sitting at spinning wheel with a man standing in front of her with hat in hand. Copywrited 1907.” Reads one post on the askart discussion boards under James Arthur,”I would love to know the value of this or how to find its valu (sic).”

Another reads, “I have 2 of his prints. One is of a woman with hair pulled back. She is looking down. Has dress and is holding flowers that encircle the bodice of the dress and is stamped: Copyrighted By: James Arthur 1907. It is in an oval shaped glass 7″ wide x 9″ tall with delicate gold chains for hanging and beautiful scrolled gold filigree pieces on both the top and bottom. Back is old wood. Would like to know its value.”

It appears that most everyone agrees the work is astoundingly beautiful, and they for whatever reason are desperate to know where and how to get rid of it.

The only problem facing these curious Arthur owners?

They, for the most part believe they have work by the wrong James Arthur. Adding to the already confusing and difficult task of identifying the value of a James Arthur piece, around the time of the photographer James Arthur’s death in 1912, another James Arthur, an illustrator working in Illinois and Pennsylvania, was gaining traction in the world of calendar art and advertisement. In fact, even many reputable auctioneers market the photographer James Arthur’s work as “early works from the famous Chicagoan illustrator.” Most famous for his paintings of Native American maidens, this James Arthur lived well into at least the 1920s. But, much like the earlier Arthur, while his works seems to achieve a decent sum in auction, little is known about the man responsible for them.

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The Life of James Arthur

On January 12, 1912, James Arthur died a successful and prominent photographer in his Detroit home. He had moved to the city in 1881, collaborating with photographers such as JE Watson, and striking up a partner business with notable early female photographer Helen M Philbric. In 1901, Arthur had received national awards for his photography and enough notoriety to open his own studio, aptly named Arthur Studios.

Ten years after his death in a book detailing the early history of Detroit, Arthur was described as one the foremost photographers in the United States. His work, indescribably beautiful. When he died, he left behind three children, a wife, and a photographic legacy far easier to erase than anyone at the time could have imagined.

Most of the information we can find on the photographer is compiled from sources published during his lifetime and shortly after his death. He was born May 27, 1855 in Montreal. His parents were both immigrants from Scotland who were financially well off. Arthur attended prestigious private schools where it is implied that he developed the artistic eye that would influence his photographic work that followed. Following his father’s death, Arthur began working J. and J. W. Notman and in 1881 moved to Detroit. In 1882 Arthur married Clara Blanche Peters, a notable suffragist who in her lifetime also came to be held in high regard in turn-of-the-century Detroit society. You can read a brief profile on her here.Their three children were named Kenneth, Nathalie, and Muriel.

The Library of Congress lists copyrights claimed by James Arthur for 1899 and 1906, although information for the years in between could not be found. For those interested in dating or identifying possible titles of James Arthur prints, these copyrights are listed below.

In January 1910, The Art Museum Fund located in Detroit was reported to have spent $14.40 on James Arthur photographs, but after that little is known.

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The Production of Prints

After much searching and keeping tabs on auction sites, I was able to identify even more prints and the titles of them. I came to learn that each print originally had a title hand written on the back of their frame, making it easy to identify original frames and reproduction frames.

As for the actual age of the prints? It’s anyone’s guess. Online auctions have listed tiny versions of the prints as “salesman postcards”, which are believed to have been used for selling prints door to door. One seller claimed the cards were produced in 1910, which would date the mass production of these prints, but I have yet to find a corroborative source on this. Works between 1900 and 1906 have striking similarities in their framing which leads me to believe they were likely mass produced at some point following this period. Own owner claimed a James Arthur print was given to her grandparents as a wedding gift in 1913, which if it is to be believed, could limit the period of the prints production to around Arthur’s lifetime.

Another theory on the origins of these prints is that they were produced following James Arthur’s death. James Arthur was still relevant in the Detroit area well into at least the 1920′s and these prints could have served as a posthumous printing of his life works. Until more information can be found on the production of these prints though, it is hard to determine the exact nature and purpose of them.

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On Value

In my research-heavy stroll through the life of James Arthur, I saw one word repeated more than any other: value. What is the worth of an original James Arthur print? Where can I sell this to a person interested in collecting obscure turn of the century photographers? The more I saw it, the less I cared. In my research I saw prints selling for anywhere from 30 to 500 dollars, many of them being the same prints. But what does it really matter?

I recently purchased my second lot of James Arthur prints from 1904 for fifty dollars. Am I wasting my money on an artist doomed to pointless obscurity? I don’t know. Am I investing in a rare collection of art that will perhaps rise in value after a rediscovery of James Arthur’s works? Probably not. In the end it doesn’t matter. Value is attached by ordinary people, not by a standard set by some value committee. James Arthur was a capable and talented photographer who just so happened to fall victim to time and the changing availability of art on a wide scale.

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Updates, Sources, and Additional Info

JANUARY 2014: It’s been a while, but I’ve been in the middle of switching domains and so this is now being hosted on wordpress. If you have information, please email me at emilyanneiowa@aol.com, rather than my old site email.

MAY 2013: UPDATE FINALLY HERE. With pictures! You’re truly missing out on life until you’ve seen Arthur’s turn of the century ‘stache…

MARCH 2013:I’m currently still researching James Arthur in order to put together a more comprehensive overview of his life using sources interloaned to me through our lovely library system. Updates and changes will continue to be made as this research is done. If you have questions about James Arthur or would like to submit information, please email me at info@emilypennington.com emilyanneiowa@aol.com. I am specifically interested in biographical information, new prints to add to the online gallery, and titles of works that are unknown.